I Guess it's Half Timing [chummel]
Title: I Guess it's Half Timing
Rating: PG-13.
Fandom/Pairing: Glee. Mike/Kurt, with Mike/Quinn friendship.
Spoilers: Kurt has this one shimmy dance move that's superdistracting?
Warnings: Errrg. None, I think?
Summary: A person would think that after so many years, Mike wouldn't still find Kurt so alluring.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, including the Michael Buble song "Haven't Met You Yet." which i just heard for the first time earlier today. behind the times loltxtit.
a/n: For the slashthedrabbleprompt "education". Sorta?
Six years later, and Kurt Hummel is still just as distracting as he was in high school.
Mike doesn’t tell Kurt that - not again - and he certainly doesn’t tell the director that. He gets the feeling like that it wouldn’t do anyone any good for him to use an outdated attraction to a kid he used to know in high school as an excuse for why he suddenly forgets a sequence that he’s had down for months.
He just goes about his business, and tries to focus on five six seven eight instead of that ass those hips those arms that collarbone - trying everything, from negative reinforcement to building a tolerance through exposure. (Although it’s arguable that the latter was actually about Mike wanting to not notice Kurt, instead of being about Mike really, really wanting Kurt to notice him.)
When it becomes clear that it’s not working, however - and it’s not going to start working any time soon, if Mike’s consistently-decreasing DDR scores are any indication - Mike decides that it’s a Really Serious Occasion, and dials the third most terrifying person in his contacts.
On the upside, Quinn doesn’t hang up within the first ten seconds of his explanation as to what could possibly be so important that he had to wake her up at three-fifty-seven in the morning (her time).
On the downside, by the time that Mike is breathless and the whole, embarrassing, gut-wrenching story has been spilled, Quinn is wheezing in a way that Mike knows means she’s laughing hysterically on the other end. He pouts into the phone, and mutters, “Look, I called you because I thought you could help me…”
He doesn’t think that she hears him, and it’s another three minutes or so before she’s speaking coherently again.
“How do you even function on a daily basis?” Quinn asks. It’s a hurtful question, but she doesn’t say it like it is, and Mike knows to take it as some kind of affectionate teasing. (Sort of.)
When he doesn’t reply, Quinn sighs loudly, and says - this time with clearer affection - “Honestly, Mike, you’re a grown man. How can one guy have that kind of effect on you, still?”
Mike’s indignant response of “It’s Kurt!” comes out more pathetically enamored than defensive, and Quinn laughs again before warning him - halfheartedly, maybe - not to wake her up like that again, especially not for something so ridiculous.
Mike takes her words - all of them, unhelpful and unrelated included - to heart, and tries to deal with the situation like an adult. A mature, professional adult.
It doesn’t go how he expected it to - and that’s an understatement - but Mike is an adult, he repeats to himself like a mantra (when that mantra isn’t a combination of fucks and Kurts and more assorted profanities), and adults are able to adapt to unforeseen circumstances.
And it helps, Mike thinks, that his unforeseen circumstance happens to be a fantasy he’s spentway too many years of his life mentally playing out.
Rating: PG-13.
Fandom/Pairing: Glee. Mike/Kurt, with Mike/Quinn friendship.
Spoilers: Kurt has this one shimmy dance move that's superdistracting?
Warnings: Errrg. None, I think?
Summary: A person would think that after so many years, Mike wouldn't still find Kurt so alluring.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, including the Michael Buble song "Haven't Met You Yet." which i just heard for the first time earlier today. behind the times loltxtit.
a/n: For the slashthedrabbleprompt "education". Sorta?
Six years later, and Kurt Hummel is still just as distracting as he was in high school.
Mike doesn’t tell Kurt that - not again - and he certainly doesn’t tell the director that. He gets the feeling like that it wouldn’t do anyone any good for him to use an outdated attraction to a kid he used to know in high school as an excuse for why he suddenly forgets a sequence that he’s had down for months.
He just goes about his business, and tries to focus on five six seven eight instead of that ass those hips those arms that collarbone - trying everything, from negative reinforcement to building a tolerance through exposure. (Although it’s arguable that the latter was actually about Mike wanting to not notice Kurt, instead of being about Mike really, really wanting Kurt to notice him.)
When it becomes clear that it’s not working, however - and it’s not going to start working any time soon, if Mike’s consistently-decreasing DDR scores are any indication - Mike decides that it’s a Really Serious Occasion, and dials the third most terrifying person in his contacts.
On the upside, Quinn doesn’t hang up within the first ten seconds of his explanation as to what could possibly be so important that he had to wake her up at three-fifty-seven in the morning (her time).
On the downside, by the time that Mike is breathless and the whole, embarrassing, gut-wrenching story has been spilled, Quinn is wheezing in a way that Mike knows means she’s laughing hysterically on the other end. He pouts into the phone, and mutters, “Look, I called you because I thought you could help me…”
He doesn’t think that she hears him, and it’s another three minutes or so before she’s speaking coherently again.
“How do you even function on a daily basis?” Quinn asks. It’s a hurtful question, but she doesn’t say it like it is, and Mike knows to take it as some kind of affectionate teasing. (Sort of.)
When he doesn’t reply, Quinn sighs loudly, and says - this time with clearer affection - “Honestly, Mike, you’re a grown man. How can one guy have that kind of effect on you, still?”
Mike’s indignant response of “It’s Kurt!” comes out more pathetically enamored than defensive, and Quinn laughs again before warning him - halfheartedly, maybe - not to wake her up like that again, especially not for something so ridiculous.
Mike takes her words - all of them, unhelpful and unrelated included - to heart, and tries to deal with the situation like an adult. A mature, professional adult.
It doesn’t go how he expected it to - and that’s an understatement - but Mike is an adult, he repeats to himself like a mantra (when that mantra isn’t a combination of fucks and Kurts and more assorted profanities), and adults are able to adapt to unforeseen circumstances.
And it helps, Mike thinks, that his unforeseen circumstance happens to be a fantasy he’s spentway too many years of his life mentally playing out.